


Dare You To Move

by louisandsass



Category: Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Activist!Louis, Drama Teacher!Louis, Established Relationship, Kidnapping, M/M, Simon is in this too I guess, Some death (not main characters), photographer!harry, political shit, there's some violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 11:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louisandsass/pseuds/louisandsass
Summary: Louis leads a young group of underground activists. Harry is the supportive boyfriend who takes photos in the background. People start disappearing, including Louis, and Harry must embark on an adventure to find his boy.





	1. Part I

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by "Colonia" starring Emma Watson. The movie is based on a true story while this fic isn't.
> 
> Title inspired by Switchfoot.
> 
> xx

**Part I - The Capture**

 

**_Before_ **

Harry wished for a camera every Christmas even though his family couldn't afford one. They lived in a single bedroom flat with no heating and yellow-stained walls. It smelled heavily of cigars. The carpet was torn in the sections where Dusty, their black cat, played. Their building was noisy and the outside even much so, the constant blaring of car horns and the bickering of their indecent neighbors could keep anyone up at night.

One Christmas evening, as they sat around the television, his sister mentioned she got a job interview at the local paper. Gemma had a brilliant mind and would be ace at it.

Their stepfather scoffed. His unemployment somehow made him king of employment. He didn't congratulate Gemma. Instead, he sent Harry a reproachful look and a gruff, “And you?”

“What?” Harry had manners, normally, but he didn't appreciate the challenge in his stepfather’s voice. It was demeaning.

“When are you getting a real job? I can't imagine a bakery will feed you for the rest of your life.”

“Robin,” Anne said. That was always her response because she was afraid to say more. Harry could tell by the way her hands shook.

Harry stood from his seat and crossed the living room. “At least I have a job,” he threw over his shoulder, a clamor following him out the door.

Robin’s belly usually slowed him down. Harry had already slipped inside the lift when he emerged from their flat with a raised fist. Harry waved at him as the metal doors slid shut. They dinged open moments later and he let out a breath. He hated small, enclosed spaces. As he gained his footing, he made for Louis’ door, knocking eagerly.

He was met with a smile as a hand grasped his wrist to pull him inside. Louis kissed him delicately. Like a petal.

Louis was a petal.

“Hi, Petal.”

Louis leaned in and caught Harry's other wrist. “Hey, love. You alright?”

“I am when I'm with you,” Harry whispered, placing several kisses against his temple.  

“I take it Robin did something?”

“He does a lot of somethings but right now I don't want to think about him.”

Louis studied him, brows furrowed. “Are you sure?”

A shout from outside could've shattered the moment but Harry was so enamored he hardly noticed. “I just want you. ”

Louis tucked his face against Harry's shoulder. His exhale tickled Harry's neck. “Want you too.”

It was those words that made Harry forget about how shitty everything else was. He tilted Louis’ face up and studied him closely, loving the way his eyelashes fluttered, casting shadows that the tips of Harry's fingers traced.

They held each other closely that night, basking in the warmth of their bodies. Harry gave Louis a thin, silvery necklace. A small charm dangled from it. The letter H was engraved on the back. Louis fastened it around his neck and promised to keep it close to his heart. Then it was his turn, and Harry would never forget being presented with the box that contained his very first camera. A blue Polaroid. It was the most precious thing he'd ever held and the weight of it felt so real. He surged forward to kiss Louis senseless, mumbling words against his jaw and enjoying the way Louis responded to every touch.

It was their best Christmas.

~~~

**_Today_ **

Harry only photographs things that matter. So when he happens on Louis, sat on a boulder that overlooks the lake, wearing a pensive expression and gripping his journal tightly, Harry makes it his mission to capture the moment. His Polaroid travels everywhere with him. To the lake, to the church, to the pub. It has seen a lot these past few years. 

Louis covers his face when he catches Harry pointing the camera in his direction. Harry clicks the shutter anyway. They sit together for a while, basking in the remaining sunlight, hands warm and linked.

Sunsets remind Harry of the day they moved out of their shitty building. The last time Harry saw his mum. She chose Robin and that was that. Harry had the scar on his right arm to prove it. In a bout of rage, Robin had thrown an iron at Harry. She stood by, uttering that single name, _Robin_.

Harry moved in with Louis and for the time being, he did his best to avoid his family, aside from his sister. However, the day came when Louis landed himself a job outside of the country and Harry followed him.

But.

“I miss my mum.”

Louis frowns. “I'm sure she misses you too.” He squeezes Harry's hand and Harry enjoys the feel of it.

Then, his heart thumps. “She has Robin.” _How could she possibly miss me..._ he doesn't add. _She watched me pack my things._

“Interesting how someone can either make your life better or worse. I think he made hers worse.”

“For better, for worse,” Harry mutters ironically. He vividly remembers their wedding day, his mother asking ten-year-old Harry to walk her down the aisle because her father refused to accept a second marriage. Harry felt the same way as his grandfather except he never voiced his opinion. She'd been happy at the time.

They're silent for a moment longer until Louis adds, “Until death do us part,” morbid tone and all.

~~~

Harry finds himself at the local theater more often than not. He'll wait in the back and observe how Louis directs a group of young, talented actors. Sometimes Harry mingles with the cast, offering to help them run lines or practice their blocking.

Louis has done a marvelous job of improving their acting skills because he's a natural leader. He's smart and patient. Kind. Confident.

There's a section on their wall at home covered with photographs of Louis directing from the stage, from the wings, from the audience and from all angles.

And as time passes, Louis’ role shifts.

One summer, he starts working on a series of short plays written by one of his students. Perrie has an incredible mind. She has put together a dramatization of the political ice their country stands on. One step too harsh and they'll fall under Simon Cowell’s dictatorship. That’s how Perrie explained it when she presented her idea to Louis.

And that's actually what residents fear.

It has all slipped under the radar of international mainstream media and social media platforms. Cowell's team has done a tremendous job of monitoring and censoring.

Perrie’s play becomes an underground show or a “cult” as Gemma calls it during the rare occasions she's able to chat with Harry.

She has advised him to flee the country several times—to grab Louis’ hand and run like they ran from home three years ago. He has thought about it but he hasn't had the courage to convince Louis to leave everything behind. He sees how invested Louis has become with the theater and his students. Harry wants no part in taking that away from him.

Even when things start to change.

As those summer days roll into autumn, Perrie and her brother, Niall, change Louis. Harry watches him not only lead his actors, but also gather the attention of play-goers, college students and other young locals. Their tact is word-of-mouth. The students spread the word while trying to keep it hush-hush from people who support Cowell—mostly the older, conservative folk.

One day Harry blinks and suddenly he's watching Louis lead a group of young activists. Perrie and Niall are often at his side, whispering encouragement and sharing their research on Cowell’s movements. Always giving Louis material. Niall, in particular, spends a lot of time following Louis around and keeping him informed on the political ice that is slowly cracking. Niall goes as far as purchasing the theater and placing it under Louis’ ownership.

Harry blinks again and now Louis’ organizing secret rallies in his theater.

Then people start disappearing. They're taken from bus stops and deserted roads. First at night and eventually during broad daylight.

It becomes a hassle to go outside for basic daily activities. A curfew is announced on every radio and television broadcast show. Police officers patrol the streets and it is left unclear whether they're out to protect or out to destroy.

“Harry, you have to leave! You're going to get caught in the crossfire,” Gemma warns him over the phone for the hundredth time. She has been tempted to report on the information he shares with her. She's now an editor at the paper in their hometown. She is a gatekeeper and can basically publish whatever she pleases. Harry begs her to keep quiet. He doesn't want to even think about what could happen to her if she gets the word out there.

“Hazza?” Louis’ voice carries over from the entrance of their home. It sounds off. Harry mutters a quick goodbye to his sister and hangs up the phone before Louis enters their bedroom. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears, bottom lip quivering.

Harry rushes forward, lifting his hands to cradle his face. An automatic reaction. “What's wrong, Petal?”

“Niall was taken!”

Harry's concern grows. He begins imagining scenarios in which Louis had to fight off whoever was involved. His pulse quickens and Louis can probably feel it through his palms. “What happened?”

Through thick tears that Harry tries to wipe away, Louis recounts that while Niall waited for him outside the theater, two men dressed as civilians appeared out of nowhere and dragged him into a black van. According to a witness, Niall put up a fight but his efforts were futile. The men knocked him out with a blow to the head. The van disappeared around the corner before anyone could try to help him.

“Does Perrie know?”

Louis shakes his head. “I don't know! I came straight here. Fuck! What if something happens to him?” He steps away from Harry and begins pacing.

“We’ll look for him,” Harry suggests, weakly. It hurts him to see Louis on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“Are you mad? Harry, others who have disappeared have been taken in a van that fits the description that was given to me. I wouldn't even know where to begin to look!”

“Wait… Wasn't Niall trying to figure out where people are disappearing to? I recall that conversation at your last meeting.”

“Yes!” Louis grabs at his own hair, yanking. “And that's what we were going to talk about today.” The realization hits him in that moment. “This is my fault! He was taken because of me! He was there because he was coming to see  _me_!”

“No, no, no. This isn't your fault. Petal—”

“I need to see Perrie,” Louis says suddenly. He wipes at his face and pats at his pockets for his keys.

Harry follows him out the bedroom, hoping and praying that Louis temporarily misplaced his car keys. “I don't think you're in the right state to go out. It's almost curfew and you're not thinking straight. We’ll go see her in the morning.”

“This can't wait until morning! Her brother was taken because I took my bloody sweet time to show up to the theater! He doesn't have a key so he was waiting out there0 for me. If anything happens to him, I don't know what I'll do.” Louis hides his face behind his hands.

He lets out a sob, which is odd considering he's only known Niall for a handful of months.

“Wait.” Harry’s stomach twists at the emergence of an unwanted thought that has been tucked away at the back of his mind for a while. He has always smothered it with other thoughts because it never mattered before. He's been with Louis for so long, he has never doubted his loyalty. But the words that slip out of his mouth would prove otherwise. “Do you have feelings for him or something?”

Louis drops his arms. He glares at Harry as if he's been slapped. “I'm afraid Niall may be harmed by Cowell’s people and you're worried I'm fucking him behind your back?” he asks incredulously.

And yeah, hearing it out loud makes Harry feel stupid. Of course he doesn't think Louis would ever do that to him. He instantly feels guilty for even suggesting it.

“Louis, that's not what I said!”

“It doesn't matter. I need to go,” Louis spits. He seemingly continues to search for his keys.

In all the time they've been together, Harry can't recall a single argument that ended this way—with Louis resolutely looking for an escape. They've always been patient and open with each other. He watches Louis fish his keys from a discarded coat by the front door.

“Petal,” he pleads. Treacherous tears fill his eyes. “I'll come with you.”

Louis’ hard expression falters. He shakes his head. “Wait for me here.”

“Louis–”

“Wait here, okay? I’ll be back.”

Harry is silent, arms crossed.

“Okay?”

He shrugs.

Louis looks desperate for a confirmation. “Harry, _please_.”

“Fine.”

Everything about this is all wrong. Louis leaves without kissing him. That's something he never does.

Harry refuses to wait around while the love of his life is out risking his life. He grabs his satchel, making sure his Polaroid and pocket knife are safe inside.

~~~

He's been to Perrie’s house several times. It sits at the top of a hill about two miles west of the theater. The lake where Harry and Louis often spend time sits at the bottom of that hill. Harry is confident that if he doesn't find Louis at Perrie's, he’ll surely find him on their boulder probably sulking and thinking of ways to apologize to Harry.

As he bikes through their neighborhood, he manages to avoid encounters with patrol officers. Curfew doesn't start for another hour. Harry wonders why they're already out.

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest when he spots a black van at the end of Perrie's street. He's out of breath from biking up the incline. Harry hears a commotion coming from the direction of her house. He quickly stashes his bike behind a bush and sprints to hide behind a car, just out of sight of the van. There's another sound. The night stills right after he hears it. He tries to decipher the sound but his adrenaline convinces him to keep moving. He ducks behind several more cars until the house is in sight.

Now that he's closer, Harry realizes he isn't alone. A group of men in dark suits are standing in Perrie’s front yard. They're pointing objects at the front door. Harry can't see their faces but he can imagine what they're holding. He quietly pulls out his camera and snaps a photo through the windows of the car he's crouched behind. As he waits for the photo to print, he wonders if the street lamps provided enough light. He'll probably have to get closer.

“We don't want to shoot,” one of them calls out, loudly.

The hair at the back of Harry's neck stands on edge. He sinks to his knees and listens hard.

A second man says, “But we will if we have to, so open up!”

Harry is so intent on watching the scene across the street that he doesn't notice the person that kneels down beside him.

“You should be at home!” A voice hisses into Harry's ear. Louis’ unexpected appearance causes Harry to slacken his grip on the camera. Luckily he saves it from crashing to the ground and creating unwanted attention to their hiding place.

Harry is relieved that Louis isn't behind Perrie's door. He was starting to wonder if he'd have to use his pocket knife for the first time.

“You shouldn't be here,” Louis whispers frantically.

“Neither should you.”

Louis closes his eyes. “I need to distract them so that Perrie can escape. I already texted her my plan. You must get far away from here.”

“I'm not leaving you.”

“You're choosing the wrong time to be stubborn—”

Before Louis can continue his argument, they hear a new voice directing the others to shoot.

“No!” Louis screams loud enough to be heard by the whole town. He turns to Harry with wide eyes, clapping a hand over his mouth.

Harry registers the rest in snapshots: footsteps pounding against gravel, Louis apologizing to Harry over and over again, being hauled to their feet by rough hands, Louis begging them to release Harry and Harry struggling against the hands clasping his arms.

Someone sticks a needle in his arm.

The world tilts.

~~~

Harry hasn't felt this hungover in ages. He rubs at his temples and tries to sit up but he's afraid his liquid mistake might crawl up his throat.

“You're awake,” says a female’s voice. Relief emanates from the statement and Harry wonders what his sister is doing here. Did they go out drinking last night?

“Gem?” He tries to sit up but his stomach doesn't agree with him. He lays back down.

“It's me. Perrie.”

This time, headache be damned, Harry sits up. He ignores the goosebumps spreading along his skin. He imagines he must look pale and sickly. His vision is slightly blurred but eventually Perrie's blonde hair comes into view and Harry remembers.

 _He remembers_.

“Where's Louis?”

“I think you should drink this first. You must be dehydrated. You were injected with a heavy drug.” She offers him a water bottle. Her blue, blue eyes are wide and sad. Her blue eyes, much like Louis’, are looking at Harry with more concern than he can swallow.

“Where is Louis?” he asks again, this time slower.

Perrie sniffles. “They took him.”

The world tilts again. 


	2. Part II

PART II - THE PLAN

The next time his eyes blink open, Harry chugs a whole bottle of water that has been placed in front of him. Perrie’s lying on a couch a few feet away, face covered by her long, blonde hair. They’re in a furnished basement he doesn’t recognize. The couch he’s occupying is cold and leathery. It reminds him of a couch his mother owned.

He feels slightly better, more responsive to light and movement, but when he spots his satchel on a coffee table and finds it empty, his anxiety levels spike.

Perrie stirs when she hears Harry edging into hysterics as he shakes his bag upside down—on a mission to find his most valuable possession. And while he should be embarrassed by his behavior, he’s glad she’s witnessing firsthand the mess they’re in because of her and her brother.

She hands him another water bottle. He knocks most of it back like a long shot of whiskey. He still feels a little lightheaded. He wishes it were actual whiskey.

“Do you have any idea where he might be?” Harry croaks after a while. He’s working on breathing regularly. Photography usually serves as a good coping method. He’d photograph the carpet at his feet because of it’s intricate pattern and bold color swatches. Or he’d shoot the high ceiling with its dark red mahogany. But the camera that Louis worked so hard for—the camera he knew Harry would eternally cherish—is elsewhere. A knot forms in his throat.

“My best bet is that he must be wherever Niall is.” Perrie closes her eyes. “That’s not a big lead but that's what I’m hoping. They’ll be safe together.”

Harry groans.

“What happened when um—when it happened? Did you see anything?”

Perrie shutters, eyes distant. “I saw some of it… It all happened so quickly. They took him in a van. I think they forgot that a moment before they’d been close to blowing my brains out.” She tries to sound nonchalant but fails. “After they drove off, I found you on the ground unconscious. I hadn’t known you were there. Louis had just texted me he was outside and that he wouldn’t let them take me like they took Ni—” she breaks off.

“Do you know what happened to my brother?”

Harry recounts everything he knows, leaving out the bit that caused his argument with Louis. Perrie listens with unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

He waits for a while until he asks, “Where are we?”

“Jesy’s parents’ lake house. Remember her? She’s one of Louis’—”

“One of his students, yes, I remember,” Harry snaps. He has a clear picture of Jesy in his mind, one where she’s fiercely delivering lines he once helped her practice. It was long before Perrie and Niall showed up. She was one of Louis’ favorite students. Harry was quite fond of her, too. “When you found me,” he presses on, “Did you by any chance see me camera?”

She shakes her head.

He disguises a shaky breath with a weak cough. “Um, thanks for bringing me here but I need to find Louis,” he says, slinging his satchel over one shoulder.

“I need to find my brother.”

“Good luck.” He stands up and although his knees are wobbly, he makes for the stairs. Perrie rushes to block his path.

“We should go together.”

Harry blinks back at her. “Sorry but I rather go alone.”

“I know you’re upset with me, Harry, and I'm not really sure why.” She pauses, accepting the blank stare she gets from him. “But I think we can help each other.”

“You're already on their target list. You'll get us both captured,” he points out.

Perrie's eyes widen. She would get that look when she watched rehearsals from the wings. Harry noticed it a couple of times. Normally she’d snap her fingers a moment later and suggest something to Louis, excitement radiating off of her. This time she seems less thrilled when the idea comes to her.

“That's the plan.”

He squints at her. 

“We need to get ourselves captured!” She looks at him earnestly, blonde hair swaying with each movement she makes. She runs up the stairs, Harry following closely behind. He's not sure why. He just does. Once they're upstairs, Harry peers around curiously. The living space above the basement is similarly furnished, although a bit more inviting. Perrie makes a sharp left, which leads them down a hall that spills into a kitchen. It smells of herbs and chicken.

Jesy grins when she sees Harry. “You're up! I was about to send food down.” She turns to Perrie, concern wrinkling her forehead. “Love, are you sure you should be up here?”

"We don't need to be inconspicuous.”

That's it. Perrie has gone completely mad. She's going to get them killed. Before he can give voice to his thoughts, Jesy offers Harry a full plate. He accepts it gratefully and keeps his mouth occupied with the warm food.

“What do you mean?” she questions Perrie, a hand coming up to rest on her hip. “What exactly are you planning?"

Perrie doesn't answer, avoiding Jesy’s eyes by piling heaps of food onto a plate for herself.

“Pez?”

Perrie shakes her head. “Have you heard from Jade and Leigh?”

Harry recalls the two girls. They joined Louis’ theater shortly after Perrie. They are fantastic actresses and very often seek Louis' approval. 

His appetite wanes. “Were they captured too?”

“No, of course not. They've been following a trail for a while,” Jesy explains, eyes on Perrie. “The last time we spoke, they were close to figuring out where the vans are taking people.”

“How long since they last sent an update?”

“About four hours.”

“I need to speak to them.” Perrie rushes away, intent on driving Harry mad with her sporadic behavior.

Jesy’s eyes remain on Perrie’s exit. “How are you feeling, Harry?”

“I’m okay.”

“We’ll get him out soon. Louis will be okay.”

Harry holds onto that because it's all he's got.

Perrie bursts back in with a manic grin. She places a black, rusty-looking box by her abandoned dish. It has dials and buttons and an antenna. Harry questions the antiquity but doesn't voice his bemusement, instead intent on watching Perrie fiddle with the dials until Jesy takes hold of her hand and guides it to a switch. They lock gazes. Just as Jesy releases her hand, a static sound is released from the radio. They all hold their breaths.

With a shaking hand, Perrie holds down on a button and holds a small microphone to her mouth. “Come in J and L. This is P. Do you copy?”

More static.

“Do you copy?” Perrie speaks more frantically. “J and L?”

Jesy pats Perrie’s shoulder. “They might be out of range. Let's wait a moment.”

“J and L, do you copy?”

Harry admires her persistence but it doesn't excuse the oddity of the situation. “What about their cell phones?”

“They left them behind in case they get captured. This is the best way for us to communicate. There's not way anyone can pick up this station.” Jesy glances at Harry momentarily and then turns back to Perrie who's looking on the verge of tears. “Pez, I think you need some rest. We'll try again in a few hours.”

“I'm fine, Jes—”

“P?” The radio crackles, emitting a series of buzzing sounds. “P, you there?”

Perrie fumbles forward as Jesy turns a dial counterclockwise. “P, here. Status?”

This time the transmission sounds clearer as someone’s voice—Harry thinks it might be Jade’s—comes through.

“Farms!”

Perrie and Jesy look at each other, mirroring the same look of confusion. “Where?”

“The vans—” Static. “...abandoned farms—”

“More details, J.”

“Oranges!”

A strange buzzing comes through again. And then it stops, leaving the room in silence.

Perrie is the first to break it. “Abandoned farms?”

“The ones by the orange grove off of Dunn Road about twenty miles out,” Harry clarifies like it's the most obvious thing. He remembers seeing the farms upon his and Louis’ arrival to the area. They were venturing around and saw the warning signs for trespassers. Louis wanted to sneak into a barn and bend Harry over a haystack. The area felt too spooky and encouraged them to continue their fun elsewhere.

“I thought the air around there was toxic?” Jesy questions.

“Is it?” Harry doesn't recall but then again, he'd been high off of lust at the time.

“A chemical bomb was set off around there ages ago. We were always told to stay away."

"I went there once with Louis. The air seemed fine."

Perrie lets out a whoop. "It seems like a perfect place to hide people. I think we've got our location."

Harry and Jesy stare at her like she's grown a second head. 

 


End file.
